


Refrains of a Romance

by jld_az



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: (more like easter eggs really), (ok maybe a little plot), D/s undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jld_az/pseuds/jld_az
Summary: I'm calling this mini-series 'JAFS, Interludes'.Periodic updates at best. Mostly posting for the easter eggs and porn.
Relationships: Martin / Ariaunna (OFC)
Kudos: 2





	Refrains of a Romance

“Do you know what day it is?”

Martin’s attention jerked up from the comm in his left hand, and he halted hard enough in the threshold that the fob he’d been casually tossing toward the table on his right missed its mark. The device skittered off the edge, and clattered to the floor.

Across the loft, Aunna wore an impish smile — and nothing else. His mouth flooded at the sight, and he swallowed thickly before responding.

“…Tuesday?”

“Try again.”

It took a moment to register her switch to Thari, but when he did, Martin’s expression turned just as devilish.

“So your note saying you needed the weekend?” he responded in kind, stepping forward to let the door close. His eyes made a slow, roving journey down the front of her, outlined by the halogen glow from the circle at Fountain and Fairfax: breasts lifted high with her arms braced behind her, fingers cushioning her buttocks from the narrow ledge she leaned on; an ankle crossed in front of the other turning the deep V between her thighs into an inviting cup of shadow.

“‘At least the weekend’,” she corrected, sliding one hand out from behind herself to reach for something on the sill beside her, her attention following the motion. “It’s not like I had an exact date to start from, and time differential is _already_ a bitch to calculate. How close did I get?”

Martin’s wolfish grin softened a little as he bent to retrieve the fob from the floor, setting it on the table alongside his comm when he straightened.

“Within a day,” he advised, thumbing open the collar of his shirt as he toed his boots off.

She made a small, satisfied sound. It was followed by an abrupt organ chord / drum beat; a drawn-out, wavering guitar note. Then a jazzy slide, a walking bass, and Martin paused in pulling his tails to let loose a laugh.

“Way to hang a bell on it, A,” he eventually managed to articulate. Fingers steepled on the table for balance, he lifted one foot and then the other to tug off his socks, and dropped them by his boots at the door.

Aunna slanted him a shameless smirk.

“You’re welcome to come change it,” she taunted, tilting her head toward the slim silver control as she placed it back on the sill. “Also, if you didn’t want me to know about your secret affair with progressive jazz, you shouldn’t have shown me where your ‘stereo’ was.”

He conceded with a low chuckle, slipping out of his vest and folding it over the back of a nearby chair.

“Didn’t see Sagr in the yard,” he said. “Where’d you stash him?”

“Turned him loose for a romp out west of Zephyr Canyon,” she assured. “Figured he’d be happier there than terrorizing your staff. Interested in testing the integrity of these windows with me?”

She followed the question up by hooking a beckoning finger at him, mouthing along _So young and willing…_

And he was. _Fuck_ he was.

Didn’t stop him from giving her a little shit first, though.

“Pretty bold offer for a Malwainese gal,” he remarked, nodding past her shoulder toward the bustling city as he loosened the buttons of his shirtsleeves, and slowly began closing the distance.

Aunna rolled that shoulder into redirecting his gaze toward the slope of her clavicle.

“Helps that we’re not in Malwain, and the glass is one-way,” she confessed. “I know you enjoy playing to an audience though, so I'm willing to make concessions.”

Her gaze flicked up then, and he followed her eye-line to the skylight above; let out a low hum of pleasure to see the row cranked wide to the spring evening.

“Sim0ne,” he spoke into the air.

From its place on the table behind him, the screen on his comm rippled a watery blue pattern, and the music muffled as the loft’s speakers let out a soft chirrup in acknowledgment. His eyes narrowed slightly when they met hers.

“Help a Fella Out, Willya?”

The song stopped. After a moment there came a quick, four-click of drumsticks; then a heavy kick bass / snare / guitar combo dropped in. Aunna’s sneer was full of approval as her head picked up the beat.

“Green,” he said, pulling his shirt off overhead and carelessly casting it aside.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Was that a ready-check, or a request?”

“Both.”

Martin snapped his belt from its loops, and pitched it to the who cares. Aunna cycled a heavy breath, eyes fluttering glassily, and her brunette hair changed colour from the root without further question. He let his slacks fall and stepped out of them between strides, his half-mast cock levitating toward full as he closed in. She unerringly wrapped a hand around it when it came within reach, and curled her other arm across his shoulders.

“Happy birthday, lover,” she purred against his lips. Then licked past them.

Martin growled down her throat. Pressed her hard against the glass and arched up into her fist. He palmed a breast, and scraped a thumbnail over its point; captured the risen nub between his knuckles and squeezed, tugging until she whined and writhed into the pressure. She bit his lip and he wrenched away; raked his teeth along her jaw when she tilted it toward him, then attacked her neck and twisted his other hand into her hair. He gave a firm tug at the scalp.

“Knees.”

She dropped so abruptly he was left mouthing air, the palm that’d been on her breast suddenly slapping the window instead. Then his jaw was falling on a wild gasp as she sucked him to the root, blunt nails digging into his thighs, encouraging his hips into a counter-thrust, drawing her lips tight and-

“ _fuck_ sweetheart that mouth is a goddamn _weapon_ ”

-she was moaning along his shaft, sending vibrations up his spine that resonated beyond the physical. It was so good _christ she’d never know how good_ , but his tongue continued to string together declarations that reverberated against the polarized glass at his cheek. He rubbed his temple across its cool surface, euphoric as they trod that fine line between willing and force where their trust made its home.

“God you should see what you look like right now,” he groaned, holding her head still and rocking up with short, deliberate thrusts into her airway. “All your fire banked on my cock. Tiger _begging_ to be tamed _fuck-_ ”

She whined almost desperately, the intermittent sound wet and lewd, and she’d be gagging on him if not for the fact that she’d shut that reflex down ages ago. She still let him stop her breath though, the intrusion past her soft palate setting off a pleasant ache. Her fingers dug in tight enough to leave marks along his haunches when he held her to him, tears streaming freely from the corners of her clenched eyes before they opened, meeting his. She swallowed around him; watched his gaze roll up and mouth drop open in response.

He hauled her roughly off of his dick, the edge of release suddenly keen; pulled her up and kissed her with a ferocity that had her gasping. He reached up to flip the latch on the porthole window that split the pane halfway up the wall; shoved the window out, then gripped her wrists and lifted her hands over her head, encouraging her fingers to close around the accessible frame.

“Don’t let go until I say.”

Aunna gave him a bleary nod, her mouth still gaped open, green tresses a damp tangle around her face. Martin saw her hands tense, her forearms cord, her biceps round. He licked approvingly along the sweat-salty dip of the left one to the hollow of her elbow, then reached down to grip the inside of her thigh; hooked her knee over his elbow when she lifted the leg in acquiescence.

He pressed his palm to the glass by her hip, spreading her wide, then tilted his attention between them and took himself in hand; ran the head across her damp opening before tucking it inside with a breathy moan. When he was secure in her depths but not fully seated, he met her gaze, and reached for the other leg; hooked her into a fold, knees spread wide around his forearms and hips, gravity slipping her further onto his cock as he settled into a balanced stance.

Then he paused to check in with a low, “Good?”

She adjusted her grip, sweated back squeaking against the glass as she braced herself a bit higher before stilling again. She nodded: _Yes._

“Then sing for me, sweetheart,” he commanded. And drove to the hilt.

The words she heaved in response to his punishing pace began as the standard fare of multilingual filth before dropping into a rare cadence of thickly-voweled poetry that he barely understood, yet conjured thoughts of deep forests; of glens silvered by moonlight; of wild places and joyful abandon-

Then she _wailed_ , and the frame in her grip creaked in protest as she tightened her hold, pulling herself into an impossible curve that had him hammering her sweet spot until she was spasming uncontrollably around him, her legs trembling where they otherwise dangled loose over his elbows.

On the street below, Martin saw a head or two jerk up at the sound, and she hadn’t been wrong — he _did_ enjoy the occasional audience. Acknowledging that fact while balls-deep in her now though shot a column of fire down his spine that threatened to become release, and he eased himself into a grind; chewed a path up her bicep toward her ear, drawing out more throaty exhalations, and causing more passers-by to hesitate in their strides.

“We have listeners,” he murmured.

Her corresponding moan reverberated against the glass, and created significant disruption to the flow of foot traffic below. It drew him up so tight, he stilled; left them both balanced on the precipice as he lifted his palms from the glass to support her haunches instead. He straightened to take in the scene: her flushed and sweat-glossed skin glowing in the streetlight, eyes half-lidded in an exquisite expression of surrender; jaw slack, and damp breath gusting across the space between them.

“Can you feel them?” he purred into the pause. “Their eyes seeking out that open window, wondering what I could be doing to pull such beautiful Sounds out of you?”

Aunna drew her lips between her teeth, brows pinching in as she turned her face to the side. Martin let his gaze fall between them and rocked his hips back, watching himself disappear into her slick heat as she worked through the thought he’d put in her head. It was several slow, deep thrusts before she responded,

“I want to see.”

He grinned like a conqueror. She huffed wryly, and prodded him with a heel.

“Don’t be smug.”

Martin pulled out with a languid withdrawal, expression unchanged. “Did I say anything?”

“Your mouth can speak without words, Marty.” Aunna lifted up to take pressure off his arms as he unfolded her, but didn’t drop to the floor until he made a permissive nod toward her hands.

“I always thought that was one of the things you liked about me,” he fired back, running his palms down her body in a shameless grope before settling them on her hips, and turning her back to him.

She let him position her as he wanted; ended up with her feet spread just beyond shoulder-width apart, bent slightly at the waist, with her crossed forearms pillowing her forehead, and gaze directed toward the street. As he stepped close behind her, one of his hands reached up to grip the same sill she’d been clinging to, and the other curled around her hip after he’d used it to slide back into her. His blunt prodding at the depths he only achieved in this position had her first choking on an exhale, then whining against the glass. He pressed closer, and sank his teeth into the meat of her shoulder.

“What if I told you these windows were only reflective because I wanted them to be?”

His words were slightly muffled by the mouthful of flesh, but still she reacted. He felt her breath quicken; saw the jump of her pulse accelerate. He released the grip on her shoulder, and fluttered a kiss over the spot instead.

“It’s a setting, like most everything else in this place,” he explained. “They could be transparent, if I programmed them to be. Or opaque, like lampshades. Lotsa possibilities.”

“…‘Programmed’?”

Martin hummed affirmatively, mouthing his way toward the curve of her neck.

“Say you’re someone who really enjoys natural lighting,” he resumed, tone conversational in a way that belied the fact that his cock was still sliding in-and-out of her. “But you spend a lot of time with _another_ someone who has an aversion to large windows.”

Aunna stilled. “Is that why it was brighter in here?”

“Program the glass to ‘diffuse’, and you can still see out clearly, but the other side fogs over,” he advised as confirmation. “Lets in a lot more light than the one-way. Shows passing movement though - vague, but enough to track - especially if the interiors are on. So I usually reprogram them when we get here.”

A considering pause, then, “But because I was here without you-”

“How long were you waiting for me, sweetheart?”

Her whine was a delicious abandonment, crackled by wrought curiosity. “Ogod baby, are they still like that?”

“Not this time,” he soothed, the hand on her hip making a long glide across her abdomen, coaxing her back into motion. “I changed the setting when I picked up my keys.”

“…next time, though?”

Her voice was breathy and low against the glass, and while her body followed his direction, it was a distracted compliance. He made a small shrug in response.

“What if I hadn’t missed the dish _this_ time?” he asked in return. “You’re a vision, Aunna. It’s work sometimes, keeping my impulses in check around you.”

Another beat, then her hips finally resumed rocking on their own.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

Because she’d also once requested ‘occasional threats of depravity’, and now that she knew it was a possibility, _he_ could assume that if she ever surprised him like this again, ‘forgetting’ would be forgiven.

“Good.”

Martin caressed up the slope of her ribcage; trailed fingertips across the peak of a breast before finally dipping down into the cleft at the junction of her thighs, scissoring and then rolling across her hidden nub, stroking in a rhythm counter to the song playing on the periphery of awareness-

(a high reverb guitar twanging discordantly over a heavy drum and bass; one of his newer pieces, snuck into the mix)

-until she was crying through her teeth, her muscles clenching around him in restraint, milking him slowly with a tight, slippery pressure that had him growling into her hair:

“Let. Go.”

Her release was explosive; punched out of her chest to rattle the windows, and catapulted him into his own finish. He managed a few shallow thrusts and worked his fingers as she continued to shudder, her body quickly ramping up and cresting over a successive time before she buckled slightly, and he stopped stroking to curl his arm across her trembling abdomen instead, supporting her sagging form.

Their heavy breaths combined to fog the window in a slow-blooming cloud that blurred their view; refracted the streetlights.

“Thank you for the gift.”

His words were soft, delivered with gentle presses of his lips to her shoulder. Aunna turned her head to the side, catching his gaze from the corner of hers; dropped one arm to lay across his, and threaded their fingers together.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

Martin tipped in for a quick kiss as he stretched up to close the window, then brushed her hair away from her nape and folded around her, tucking close as their bodies wound down.

After a stilling moment, he ventured with a grin,

“Of course, you realize this means war?”

“Do your worst, pup,” she huffed with amusement in return. “At least you have an actual date to aim for.”


End file.
